


A Moment for Two

by waywardwinsister



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Accidental Spooning, Author attempts to write seduction, Bathing/Washing, First Time, M/M, Requited Love, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, brother touching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardwinsister/pseuds/waywardwinsister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, after a difficult hunt, Dean will try to get a moment away from the object of his unreturned affections. This time, he ends up having a moment with the man who seems to love him more than he originally thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A moment alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic, in any fandom. So please, read and review. I want to get better! 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy.
> 
> Un-beta'd

Sometimes, after a difficult hunt, Dean will book two rooms instead of one. His brother never asks him why. Always assumes that Dean is planning to get lucky that night.

He’ll drop Sam off at his motel room before driving to the closest grocery store. He’ll march past the produce and the canned goods and the meat cases straight into the cleaning aisle and grab the strongest stuff he can. Some Comet, a couple dish towels, rubber gloves, and some drain cleaner. He won’t talk to the girl at the register. Won’t spare a glance for the kid next to the door who bids him a good evening with his unfortunately timed cracking voice. When Dean pulls out of the parking lot, he’s only thinking about one thing: a nice, hot bath where he can properly stew in his misery.

He’s never liked germs, so he’ll always spend a good hour cleaning the tub with the supplies that he bought that evening. The supplies are always gone when he’s finished, so dedicated he is to a pristine soak, the contrast between clean water and the dirty heart that he carries around inside him.

He always keeps some caulk for cracked tiles in his bag. Always mends the tiles near where his head is going to be. It never gets the chance to dry all the way, but it works well enough. When Dean is finished, the bathtub is always as close to spotless as a motel tub can be. He gives it one last rinse before pulling off his flannel and starting the water, putting it up as hot as it will go. 

He brushes his teeth while the tub is filling up. Shaves, if he needs it. Usually, he does. But tonight, it’s about one day away from necessary, so he forgoes the razor and instead brushes harder. He strips off the rest of his clothes when he’s finished and is about to step into the tub when his phone rings. 

Sam.

“What’s up?” he asks with a sigh.

“Motel manager knocked on my door. Wants to know if you and I could bunk for the night.”

“Why your room?” Dean demands.

“Because you booked two rooms and yours has a king. He needs my room for a family of four.”

Dean wants to say no. To tell his brother to tell the manager to figure something else out. Dean wants to vegetate in his newly cleaned bathroom until the water is cold, then collapse on the king he lucked out on. Wants to sit in silent loneliness while the body he wants to curl up around slumbers in the next room. He doesn’t say any of this. 

“You sleeping on the couch or something?”

“It’s not a problem, Dean. I just want to go to bed. I’ve already taken a shower.”

“I don’t know, man-“ Dean begins.

“Dean, please.” Sam sounds irritated and exhausted. “I just want to sleep.” He sounds so tired and small. Dean crumbles.

“Ok, fine. Couch is yours.”

———————————————

After Dean lets Sam in, he locks himself back in the bathroom. He still sinks into the tub, but he knows he can’t linger for as long as he normally would. He keeps it short, just scrubs himself down and sits long enough for Sam to drop off. He’s not overly fond of his brother being awake to see the red-rimmed eyes that won’t go away till morning. He pulls on his boxers, towels his hair dry and exits the bathroom after turning off the light. 

Sam is illumined by the light of the moon through the blinds. He’s laying on his side, eyes closed, face turned toward the bathroom door. Dean feels a pulse of longing though his body before shaking himself and sliding into bed. He lays there for a few minutes, wide awake for the heavy breathing and the squirming coming from the couch. 

Normally, sleeping in the same room as the object of his affections is bearable. He grew up doing it. Will hopefully be doing it for quite some time. But there’s something about those close calls that make Dean want to curl around Sam and kiss every part of his brother’s body that he can reach. 

“Dean?” Sam whispers from the couch. Dean debates feigning sleep to avoid speaking.

“Yeah, Sam?” he calls back after a moment.

“This couch has a broken frame and the floor here is gross.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Dean snaps.

“Well, I mean, can I, um, sleep with you?” 

Dean’s heart stops. Then starts, this time hard and fast in his chest. 

“Um?”

“Come on, man. I need sleep and this couch is impossible.”

“S-sure. Yeah, Sammy. Sure. Here.” He scoots over before placing a pillow between them.

Sam groans at being able to lay flat. Dean groans for a different reason.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Dean whispers.

———————————————

Dean wakes up a few hours later to arms around his waist and a hand in his pants. There’s a  
line of heat spooned up against him and soft lips in his hair. Dean freezes.  
It’s everything he’s ever wanted. But he always wanted it to be awake and aware and still somehow consensual. He wants so badly to stay in those arms, but instead, he unwinds Sam’s arms and pulls away.

Sam, still asleep, seems to notice that the body that he’s cuddling is distressed, because he pulls Dean in tighter and whispers, “It’s ok, brother. I’ve got you.”

Brother?

Dean’s heart leaps in his chest. He finds himself carefully optimistic that perhaps Sam loved him too. He decides to wake him up, finding no sense in prolonging his suffering if he can help it.

“Sam?” he says gently as he nudges him with his shoulder.

“Hm?” comes the sleepy reply.

“You’re humping me.”

Sam pulls away so quickly he falls out of the bed. Normally, Dean would chuckle. As it is, he smiles, but that might have something to do with the fact that Sam seemed to be having an intimate dream about him.

“I am so sorry! Oh my God, Dean. I am so, so sorry. I’ll go back to the couch. Or the car or something.” Sam is up, pulling on a pair of jeans before Dean launches himself across the room to rest a hand on Sam’s wrist.

“It’s ok, Sam.” He squeezes Sam’s wrist and puts the other hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not ok!” Sam shouts. “I was having a whacked out sex dream and was humping you. This is so past not ok!” He jerks his hand away. “It’s one thing to have fantasies about your brother-“ He stops short at that, eyes wide with mortification.

Dean’s heart explodes with happiness.

“You have fantasies about me?”

“Dean-“

“Hot ones?”

“Dean!” Sam’s mortification gives Dean the confidence needed to ask the question he needs the answer to.

“Do you love me, Sam?” Dean holds his breath. Now that the question is out, he’s uncertain. He wonders if he read the signs wrong. If he misinterpreted Sam’s embarrassment. He doesn’t have time to stew.

Sam nods once, a jerky, aborted movement. 

“Well, that’s ok, I guess,” says Dean as he takes a step, two steps forward, until their chests are touching. “Because I love you, too.”

The room is still for half a second before Sam attacks him. Sam pushes him unto the bed and crawls over his big brother’s body, rubbing and grinding and kissing and touching. Dean smiles into every kiss, giving as good as he gets. It’s not long until they’re both tangled around each other, hands on each other’s cocks, one falling off of the edge, the other following quickly behind. They lay there in sated silence for a few minutes, exchanging soft kisses, before Sam finds his T-shirt and cleans them both up.

“That was unexpected,” says Dean.

Sam laughs, loud and long. Dean joins in. They don’t stop until neither of them can breathe.

It’s Sam who speaks after they have their breath back. “Twenty years,” he says. He’s laying on his side, one arm around Dean, the other hand softly stroking his face.

“Hm?” Dean grunts. He has his lips on Sam’s neck.

“That I’ve wanted you like this.”

“That’s a long time, Sammy.” He kisses up his neck, along his hair line and down his nose before placing a chaste kiss on Sam’s lips.

“How long has it been for you?” Sam asks. 

“Twenty years.”

“That’s a long time.”

“So it is,” Dean says with a chuckle.

———————————————

When they wake up in the morning, Sam spooned up behind Dean, arms around his big brother’s waist, hand in his big brother’s pants, Dean smiles. 

“Sam?”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking about once we get back to the bunker.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Do you want to take a bath with me?”

All he gets in reply is a groan, a gentle bite to his neck, and a hard dick ground into his ass. As far as yeses go, this one is more than acceptable.


	2. A moment together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks Sam is going to leave him. Sam thinks that Dean thinks that Sam is going to leave him. Sam shows him that is never going to happen.
> 
> Or, Sam gives Dean the bath he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! Sorry that this took so long to update. Props to an anonymous commenter for convincing me to continue writing this little story. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Remember, this is un-beta'd, so if you see any mistakes help me out by commenting.

Three weeks ago, Sam woke up humping his brother. 

Earlier that evening, Dean had taken a bath. Sam didn't ask. Didn’t need to. There had been no shower sounds that night he and Dean finally, finally fell into each other’s arms. The fresh caulking on the shower tile indicated that someone had patched it quite recently. The broken couch frame further indicated that motel management had nothing to do with it. Add to that the fact that the shower and tub were shiningly spotless and Dean had turned into quite the germaphobe since moving into the bunker, Sam knew that Dean was responsible for the good bathing accommodations. 

That didn’t mean he mentioned it.

Of course that didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate it that next morning when Dean blew him in the shower. He returned the favor, of course, once he regained the use of his legs.

They made good time back to the bunker. Sam suspected that Dean’s early morning bath time suggestion had something to do with that. Dean rushed to the kitchen for some food. They had stopped a couple hours back for some jerky and soda for Dean and a banana and some water for Sam. Sam dropped his bags off in the hall to their bedrooms and followed Dean to the kitchen. 

They ate sandwiches in companionable silence, feet sliding over each other’s feet. Sam devoured Dean’s hands and mouth with his eyes. He could feel Dean doing the same. 

“Bathroom?” Sam prompted. 

Dean stood quickly. “Yeah. I need a shower.” He took Sam’s plate and walked over to the sink. “You joinin’ me, right?”

“Yeah!” Sam jumped up, bumping his knee in the process.

Dean chuckled. “Easy, tiger,” he said.

——————————————

Life continued in much the same way it had before The Incident. Except Sam slept in Dean’s bed and all the wonderful things that entailed. Like shower sex and morning sex and kitchen sex and library sex. And kisses, shy and chaste, bold and filthy, and making out against the wall. The casual intimacy of two people who know each other and love each other. Simple things like fingers running through long, brown hair, or freckled feet resting on toned thighs.

Dean had adjusted to the new lifestyle rather well, it seemed. In every aspect except two: fucking and bathing. Which honestly surprised Sam. Dean had been a sex fiend. He wasn’t sure why anything past handjobs and blowjobs made Dean tense up and pull away. And it wasn’t just bottoming. Sam had tried to get Dean to fuck him on several occasions, but Dean never got past pressing a few fingers in and rubbing his prostate raw. Which was awesome. But still left him wanting more. He tried to talk to Dean about it, but he always ended up with his cock enveloped in wet heat before he could get the words out. So he stopped asking. Just kept it to his hands and mouth and was grateful that he was even allowed that much. He didn’t want to push Dean, and honestly, what he had was enough.

Occasionally, Dean would disappear into the bathroom for hours at a time. After the second time, Sam realized that Dean was bathing. Alone. At first, Sam was honestly annoyed that Dean had previously suggested a shared bath, but then proceeded to bathe alone. Sam tried to bring that up as well. It always ended in come on the nearest available surface.

He thought back to the evening of The Incident. Dean had been twitchy and more irritable than his normal post-hunt bad. Had booked two rooms. Had taken the time to clean and repair the bathtub. Had taken a bath. And then had suggested a shared bath and immediately chickened out. It wasn’t difficult to come to the conclusion that the bath meant more to Dean than sex. It meant intimacy, more so than the casual touching. It meant settling down. Getting comfortable.

Dean had always ran whenever things got serious in a relationship. His trust issues ran bone deep. So maybe the bath, to him, signaled that things had gotten too real. That his heart was open, but he was afraid that it was going to be broken. Sam understood. He really did. But he was too far gone to just walk away. He needed to make sure that Dean knew that.

It’s this train of thought that brings Sam to the kitchen. Dean is cleaning up the dishes, having left Sam to finish translating a particularly tricky bit of Latin. He watches Dean for a few minutes before resolving to actually follow through with his plan. He silently pads to the bathroom. He had scrubbed the massive tub while Dean was on a grocery run. He turns the water on to a comfortable temperature and pours a few ounces of the bath oil and body wash that he had found in Dean’s duffle. Lays a towel or six next to the tub, drapes one over the end where Dean’s head will go. He has a chair and a small end table behind the same end, the table containing shampoo and body wash and soft, fluffy washcloths. He puts a small bottle of lube and a condom under the table. He doesn’t foresee needing them, but he wants to be prepared. He’s also prepared to be rejected once again. He’s ok with that though. At least he gets to touch.

He shuts the water off and makes his way to the library. Dean will have finished up in the kitchen by now and gone back to researching banshees for the hunt they’re helping Garth with. Dean doesn’t know that Garth solved it twelve hours ago. Sam didn’t see the point in giving up that distraction. Luckily, Garth had played along when he got off the phone with Sam. All it took was a description of a surprise birthday present for Dean. Nevermind that it was October. 

Sam approaches Dean with careful footfalls. Dean doesn’t look up until Sam is right in his space and sinking to his knees. Sam had taken off his shirts before leaving the bathroom, so Dean is met with the sight of a kneeling, tanned, and toned body at his feet. Dean stares.

“Dean,” Sam says with a low voice. He caresses his hands down Dean’s thighs. He shudders, and Sam smiles.

“Yeah, Sammy?” he chokes out.

“We’ve been together for three weeks.”

“I wasn’t keeping track.” Dean slides a hand into Sam’s hair. He cups the other one around Sam’s face and strokes his lips with a shaking thumb.

Sam presses his body into Dean’s knees, and his legs fall open easily. Sam surges closer, lips inches away from Dean’s, his hands running up and down his brother’s thighs and stomach. Dean is breathing heavy, his pupils blown with lust. He obviously wants to kiss his brother, but Sam keeps him pinned with a stare.

“I want to do something for you,” Sam whispers. Dean gulps and nods.

“What’s that, Sammy?” Dean’s voice is wrecked.

“I want to give you a bath.”

Dean stops for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I want.” Sam bites Dean’s lip. “To give.” Sucks on the spot behind Dean’s ear. “You.” Licks down his throat. “A bath.”

“Wh-why do you want to do that?” Dean manages despite Sam’s onslaught against his throat.

“Want to touch you. Rub my hands all over your wet body. Wash your hair. Make you feel good.” Sam keeps kissing and biting Dean’s neck and shoulders, gently kneading Dean’s cock and his own. Dean groans.

“I don’t know, Sam…”

“Please, big brother. Please let me do this for you,” he begs. “Please.” He keeps kissing and begging until Dean pushes him away and looks down on him with hooded eyes. Sam turns the full force of his own puppy stare on Dean. And Dean caves instantly.

“Ok, Sammy.”

Sam is on his feet before the word are out of his mouth. He pulls Dean up to stand with him and pulls him in for a bruising kiss. He keeps it short, and pulls Dean down the hallway by his belt loops.

When they get to the door of the bathroom, Sam pushes Dean against the wall and grinds into him. Dean tries to grab his face, but Sam catches his wrists and pins them next to his head. Dean groans at that, and groans more when Sam transfers both wrists to one hand and snakes the other hand down to Dean’s belt buckle. He rests his forehead on Dean’s and pulls the belt out of the loops, unbuttons the button and ever so slowly pulls the zipper down before reaching up and carefully unslotting Dean’s shirt buttons. Only then does he let his brother go. He herds Dean into the bathroom and skims the overshirt off of his perfect shoulders and pulls the T-shirt over his head. Once Dean’s torso is bare, Sam reverently pulls his hands down Dean’s chest. Dean squirms at the worshipful touch.

“Beautiful,”Sam whispers. He runs his thumbs over Dean’s nipples, earning a shuddering sigh in response.   
“Sam-“ Dean begins. He’s silenced with a kiss.

“You are. You’re beautiful.”

Sam drops to his knees and begins to slowly pull the jeans and boxers down. Dean grabs Sam’s shoulders for balance and carefully steps out of his clothes. He’s naked now, having taken off his shoes to research.

Sam steps back to take an appreciative look. Dean’s cock is hard and heavy between his legs and Sam finds himself licking his lips. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Are you bathing me or not?”

“Right now I’m staring.”

“Shut up.” Dean walks to the tub, only to be stopped by a hand on his wrist that pulls him around for another kiss. This time, Sam squeezes his ass. Dean whines when Sam pulls away.

“After you,” Sam says, motioning to the tub. He helps Dean into the giant tub before settling in the chair behind him.

“You’re not getting in?” Dean says. Sam’s not fooled by the bravado. He knows Dean is little put out and maybe a little scared of what’s going on. But the bravado is there for a reason, so Sam plays along

“When I said bath, I actually meant bath. As in cleaning you up,” Sam says smartly.

“Forgive me for thinking that the kissing and groping meant that I was going to get laid.”

“You are going to get laid. I just want to do this for you first,” Sam says as softly and as sweetly as he can manage. Dean swallows and nods.

“Ok, Sammy.”

Sam smiles and puts the cup under the water before pouring it on Dean’s chest and shoulders. He pushes him forward, pours some oil into his hands, and rubs them down Dean’s back. He’s tense, so Sam rubs a little harder and Dean hums in response. He leans forward to mouth at the side of Dean’s neck. Dean moans.

“Relax for me, Dean,” Sam murmurs. “Relax for me so I can make you feel good.”

“Sammy,” Dean says. “I do feel good.”

“Not good enough.” He runs the fingers of his left hand through Dean’s hair before grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. He slides his other hand down Dean’s chest, stopping at his navel. He trails his fingers in teasing circles while he continues to attack the fucking perfect fucking throat at his mouth. He brings the hand below the water back up and tweaks both nipples. Dean moans, then whines when Sam pulls away again, keeping a hand in his hair. 

Sam comes back with a hand full of shampoo. He moves the hand from Dean’s hair, resting his forearms on his back as he lathers the shampoo.  
“Look, I get it,” Sam says as he sinks his hands into Dean’s hair. “Baths have been your private time for a while.”

“Private time?”

“Like running is for me. To get away. Be alone.” He grabbed the cup and filled it with water. He tilted Dean’s head back so he could rinse his hair. He pulled his head around and kissed him gently.

“And I understand that this whole bath thing is a big step for you.” He kept Dean’s face turned towards him. Dean looks confused.

“What the hell you talking about, Sam?”

“I know serious relationships have always left a bad taste in your mouth. Bathing together means that the relationship is serious.”

“Um?”

“And a serious relationship means that you can get hurt.” Sam runs his thumb over Dean’s cheek before continuing. “But I want you to know that I’m not going to leave you. I’m here for the long haul.” 

“I should hope so. Wait. Is that what this is about? You’re afraid I’m going to leave you?” Dean asks as he pulls away and turns his whole body to face Sam.

“What? No! You’re afraid I’m going to leave you.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Is that why you get so distant every time I bring up actual sex?”

“You don’t want that, Sam,” he says with a shrug.”I’m your brother.”

“And?”

“You really want to fuck the guy who changed your diapers?”

“Yeah! Or be fucked by him. What I don’t get is why you keep shutting me down.”

“We’re brothers,” Dean says again.

“And I sucked you off in the shower this morning. After you rimmed me so hard the sheets are going to have permanent come stains on them. I don’t think blood matters at this point.”

Relief breaks over Dean’s features. “Huh. That’s unexpected.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Sam says fondly, if a little awkwardly.

They’re silent for a few moments before Dean speaks again. “Is that what the bath is about? You trying to butter me up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Jerk.”

“Get in, bitch. Water’s fine.”

Sam smiles hugely and unzips his jeans before standing up and shucking them off. Dean groans when he sees that Sam’s not wearing any underwear. When the taller Winchester is sitting back in the tub, Dean straddles his waist and kisses him deeply. Sam tries to thrust up, but Dean breaks away and pushes him down. 

“Easy, tiger. I thought this was bath time.” Dean leans over Sam’s shoulders and grabs the shampoo bottle and water cup. He dunks the cup under the water and pours it on Sam’s hair. He then squirts the proper amount of shampoo on his hand and lathers it in. He slowly rocks his hips against Sam’s, and Sam groans, fingers tightening on Dean’s hipbones. Dean rinses Sam’s hair and massages conditioner from root to tip before he grabs the washcloth that Sam had laid out earlier. He drizzles some body wash on in and proceeds to scrub down Sam’s chest. Dean leans forward and latches his mouth on Sam’s neck, pressing kisses and teeth into every inch he can reach while he cleans his little brother, making him moan. While Dean is cleaning him, Sam reaches behind him to grab his own washcloth and body wash. He brings them around behind Dean, lathers up the cloth, and then throws the body wash bottle away from the tub. He begins to scrub Dean’s back, leaning forward to allow Dean access to his own back. When Dean is satisfied at his own progress, he turns around in Sam’s arms and leans back so that they both recline against the tub. Sam’s hard cock slides between Dean’s ass cheeks. He rubs the washcloth down Dean’s chest, going lower and lower until his hand is at Dean’s own cock. He throws the washcloth over the side of the tub and wraps his right hand around the his brother’s hardened length. The other hand trails up to his nipple, and he tweaks one, then the other. Dean sighs deeply, but when Sam grinds his cock hard against Dean’s ass, Dean stifles a moan, his hands flying up to Sam’s head.

“Don’t hide your sounds from me, Dean. I love hearing you.” He kisses Dean’s ear. “Touching you.” He begins to pump Dean’s dick slowly while he pinches his left nipple. “Tasting you.” He licks at Dean’s lips. Dean open his mouth to speak and Sam runs his tongue over his teeth. Through this, Sam doesn’t stop the rhythmic thrust of his hips.

“S-sam!” Dean croaks out.

“Yes, big brother?” Sam asks innocently. Dean whines. “You like it when I call you that, big brother? Like my dick against your ass, my hand on your cock?”

“Yes, Sam. Yes, I like it. I love it. Don’t stop touching me. Give me more. More. Please,” Dean babbles. The head of Sam’s dick catches on Dean’s rim, and Dean cries out.

“What is it, Dean?” Sam asks as he does it again. “You like that?”

“Sam, more. Please,” Dean whines.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”  
“I-ah. Yes, please, Sam.”

“Say it, Dean. Tell me what you want,” Sam croons.

“I want you to fuck me, little brother,” Dean gasps.

Sam moans. “Ok. Ok.” He pulls his hands away regretfully and pushes Dean up. 

“Sammy? What are you-“ Dean whimpers. He looks at Sam with an expression so open and vulnerable that Sam has to kiss those perfect lips until Dean is clutching him painfully.

“Not here, Dean,” Sam whispers. “Not for our first time.” He stands up, helping Dean up with him. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” he says as he smooths a fluffy towel down Dean’s back. 

Dean pulls him in close, whispering a raspy “ok” against Sam’s lips. Sam closes his lips to his brother’s and puts his hands low on Dean’s hips and squeezes. Dean seems to get the memo, because he jumps up, wrapping his legs around Sam’s hips, their cocks rubbing together. Sam groans and begins the ordinarily short walk to the bedroom. Something tells him that this particular walk is going to be longer than normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter three should be up in a few days. Hope you enjoyed installments one and two.
> 
> Please comment and kudos, if you feel so inclined.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Help me out and comment, kudos?


End file.
